INNOCENCE
by JoaniexJony
Summary: Max has killed a man. How does a peace loving guy like him deal with something like that? A tag for Ha'alele.


Max has killed a man. How does a peace loving guy like him deal with something like that? A tag to Ha'alele.

Warnings: Nothing, apart from being a spoiler for that episode.

Disclaimer: H50 still isn't mine. But if the job of towel girl comes up for grabs...

And many thanks to my good friend and speedy beta **Sherry 57**. This tag is dedicated to you, as apart from your endless support and encouragement, you egged me on to write this!

INNOCENCE.

His head hurt and the cuts on his wrists were aching. The raw stinging pain throbbing, pounding with the beat of his heart.

Max wasn't used to pain. He dealt with the dead. As coroner the only violence he was normally exposed to were the atrocities that had happened to others. Their broken bodies and lifeless eyes gave testament to the suffering they'd endured, but him - he wasn't supposed to get hurt. He'd been bullied at school and the cruel barbs had cut him to the core, but this was the first time anyone had struck him in anger.

He was aware people considered him a little strange, even his friends in Five O. Max wasn't an innocent, he was merely a man with simple needs who didn't feel any pressure to conform to fashion or modern trends. His clothes and shoes were purchased for comfort, not style. Some considered his interests childish, but he didn't care. Only the ignorant were intolerant of anything they didn't understand. Besides, anyone in the know was aware that NASA had gleaned many of its ideas for the early space missions from his beloved Star Trek.

He wasn't afraid to be different. He hadn't even been afraid at the thought of losing his life. Why? Max didn't know. He realized he should have been. It was illogical not to be afraid of a man who had brutally taken so many lives. Max wondered if it had been the concussion which had clouded his fear along with his brain. Or perhaps it was always that way when you stared death in the face. McGarrett would know. He just wished the commander was there so he could ask.

From an early age Max had known he'd been abandoned. As a small child he'd wondered if the reason he'd been unwanted was because he'd been an ugly baby, or had made too much noise. His adult brain told him it was an unlikely hypothesis. Even if his mother had known how he'd turn out all babies were noisy. None he had ever seen looked less than perfect.

With looks like his there was no reason to be vain, but each time he glanced in the mirror Max used to wonder if he looked anything like her. Was she pretty? Did she have his love of science? It didn't matter. He would have loved her no matter how she looked. To this day whenever he picked up a book, or watched a movie he wondered if they had shared anything in common. One thing he did know, or at least believed was true. He did have her eyes.

When he'd finally found her, discovered her fate, it was as if someone had torn out his heart and ripped it to shreds. Now he would never get the answers he sought. He would never get a chance to meet the woman who'd given him life. Feel the bond that only existed between a mother and child. That was why he felt kinship with McGarrett. The Commander's obsession was so similar to his own that Max had often been tempted to confide. Of course he hadn't. His quest for the truth was just as personal to him, as Shelborne was to McGarrett. It was a private mission that no one else could truly understand. A deep gnawing pain that was borne in silence, and alone.

On the day he'd confronted Branch in prison, Max had been consumed with rage. Yet even that emotion was denied when he'd recognized the innocence of the broken man in front of him. Branch was a victim of circumstance, situation and an all too common failure of the legal system. He'd met men like them. Police who were so under pressure to get a conviction they would do whatever it took. Even if that meant coercing a confession from a booze addled drug addict in the throws of withdrawal.

That was part of the reason Max liked his job. He unearthed the truth, gave the dead victims a voice. In some cases he'd even been able to set the innocent free. Until he met McGarrett Max confessed to having a slightly skeptical view of the police. Most of the detectives he'd met were impatient, abrasive individuals only interested on the words written on the report. All some of them wanted was the barest minimum to secure a conviction. When he'd expressed an opinion his comments had been dismissed, even derided. The commander and his team weren't like that. They wanted the truth. They wanted to know what was hidden between the lines. They, like him, cared about bringing the right people to justice.

While he didn't always understand their sense of humor, he liked them. They respected his judgement and treated him with respect. Their methods could be a little unorthodox at times, but then again, so was he. McGarrett, Steve, had sought him out when he'd escaped from prison. The Commander's trust in him had touched him more than he would ever know. It was an honor to treat his injuries and the confidence bestowed, consolidated a friendship that began when the Five O team had first entered his morgue.

Not for the first time Max wished Steve was there. He knew Danny, Chin or Kono could answer his questions, but he didn't have the same connection with them as he did with the Commander.

He'd killed a man and there was blood on his hands. The words of reassurance were kind, but no one needed to tell him that he didn't have a choice. The serial killer, the man who'd taken the life of his mother and who'd nearly killed him, deserved to die. Max didn't regret what he'd been forced to do, but just like physics he knew only too well every action in the Universe had a consequence.

He had gained and lost something in those few, anxious moments before the end of his ordeal. Now he knew that his mother had loved and wanted her child back. Those were words which had filled him with joy, only for the realization to break his heart. Her love, her search to find the son she'd given up, had resulted in the end of her life. It was an evil, cruel act. Not only was a beautiful young woman murdered in her prime, but many happy years had been stolen from them both.

Adrenaline, fuelled with the need to survive had given him the strength to make his escape. He ignored the pain as he hit the floor. Held back his cries as the glass cut into his wrists along with the rope. When he'd plunged the shard deep into the deacon's chest, it took more force than he'd expected. He barely felt the blood running through his fingers, as the cold hard eyes of the killer stared at him in surprise before he fell to the floor.

Max didn't know what he'd expected, but sending his mother's killer to the grave didn't make him feel any better. He felt no guilt, no remorse for his actions. Then again, he felt no emotion at all. The hole in his heart was still there. It was even larger now that he knew how his life could have been.

Justice had been served but the price was his innocent. He wasn't the same man. He doubted if he ever would be again. Steve would understand. He could tell him if this was how it felt to take a life – if he would ever recover. Max missed him. He wished his friend was there…

ooooOoooo

"Are you sure you're okay, Max. We're heading over to Kamekona's to grab some lunch…I know you don't do seafood, but we could pick you up a burger on the way…"

The sun was blinding, and Max squinted as he tried to shade his eyes with his free hand. Underneath Kono's breezy manner, he could hear the concern in her voice. Max knew she was concerned about him, which was kind. They had all been _kind_.

Kono had gone with him in the ambulance. She'd held his hand and told him what he'd wanted, needed to hear. It gave him some comfort at the time, but the fact was everything wasn't alright. He would never be completely _alright_ again. Chin had taken him home and offered to keep him company for a while. Max had politely refused. He liked Chin, but the only person's company he wanted was Steve's. Even Danny had called, several times. He hadn't answered as he needed to be alone, but the next morning the detective turned up on his doorstep with doughnuts and coffee. Max appreciated their concern. He had never felt wanted, now he was part of a team. It felt gratifying to have people who cared, but part of him wondered just when that had happened.

"_Max_…Where are you? I'm coming over."

When Max heard Kono's panicked tone he realized he'd forgotten she was on the other end of the line. Forgotten even where he was. He looked at his cell almost surprised to find it in his hand. Inside he felt dead. Lifeless as the victims lying still and silent in the morgue. Max gave himself a mental shake and tried to make his voice sound normal.

"I am fine, Kono…but thank you for your concern. I regret that I cannot take up your invitation as I am meeting…a friend."

"That's cool, brah…I'm just glad you're okay. Have a good time with your friend, and I'll catch you later."

Max put his phone away just as the prison gates opened. When he saw Branch coming towards him, he smiled. The man looked stunned. He appeared uncertain, almost mystified with what was happening. As if he expected someone to tell him it was all a mistake and take him back into custody at the last minute. Relief, disbelieve and joy were written across his face as Branch left the prison behind. The hand he extended was warm. The haunted, defeated expression was gone.

Max knew he would never be able to make sense about what had happened, but at least he had managed to right a wrong. No one knew what lay ahead. The future was unwritten. At least he was alive, and had given another man a chance to truly live for the first time...

THE END.

Watching Max in this episode brought a lump to my throat. I like many others watch the show for Steve and the team (primarily Steve!) but Max is such a great character, and I hope this tag did him justice.

Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you thought - Joanie.


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